


Foregone

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Butt Plugs, Light Angst, M/M, Public Sex, Sex Toys, deathmatch tryst, surprisingly deep for a butt plug fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9341198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: Try as you might, there's never enough time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for my lovely yougei, and my patrons over on patreon. thank you happyclappyhippydrift, officalpeakspider, illumiknife, intrepidescapist, and razzledazzledred!

Over the roar of the crowd, Hisoka almost missed Chrollo slipping off the arena stage. The intercom was abuzz with the shouting commentary, the flashing neon screens alerting any who cared to look that an intermission was to be held, so please, exit to the sides for concessions and souvenirs. Hisoka stretched out his shoulders and wiped at the blood on his chin, almost missing Chrollo disappear. Almost, but not quite.

“Fighters! Please remain in the arena until the new referee can be brought in!” a haphazard call sounded, but Hisoka brushed it off, his eyes locked on the slender black flutter that made up Chrollo’s retreating form. He was impeccable even after all the combat and Hisoka felt a smile tug at his split lip, the familiar feeling of chasing after Chrollo an urge that truly could never be quelled. “The intermission is scheduled to last only thirty minutes!” the voice yelled, no doubt directed at him. Hisoka didn’t spare them a single look, already losing himself to the crowd and Chrollo’s magnetic pull.

Where on earth could he be off to? They’d eaten before the fight since Chrollo couldn’t wait, and though he enjoyed to snack, this was hardly the time to do it. Hisoka smiled and the crowd before him parted, whispers trailing behind him like spider silk stuck to his back. With the arena this packed, Chrollo would definitely be avoiding areas with foot traffic. He wouldn’t wait around to be mobbed by his adoring fans. A flash of black and porcelain skin caught his eye, guiding him away from the masses and towards what looked to be a restroom.

The moment he stepped down the branching alcove, he knew he had been led here for a reason. He saw it coming but he didn’t bother dodging. Chrollo’s delicate hand snatched him by the wrist, yanking him inside the nearest bathroom with an insistence rarely seen. Hisoka went willingly, his blood pumping faster from the mere touch of Chrollo’s skin against his own.

“What’s all this about?” he asked softly, wondering how anyone could look so beautiful under cheap, fluorescent lights. Chrollo had let go of his hand and was kneeling on the filthy floor to check under the stalls for occupants. “Getting cold feet? Don’t tell me you want to call this all off, Chrollo. Not right when I’m about to break you into pieces.”

“Lock the door,” Chrollo replied, pushing off his knees to stand back up, his check yielding nothing.

We’re they going to fight in here? Hisoka couldn’t say he hated the idea; though, it was a far cry from his ideal victory setting. Regardless, he did as he was told, turning around to lock the bathroom door. It clicked into place with a conclusive click just as Chrollo wrapped his arms around him from behind, his cheek nuzzling Hisoka’s bare arm.

“This is a surprise,” Hisoka remarked, stroking his hands over the ones locked around his stomach. “Does it hurt you to hurt me? Or are you simply overcome?” It’d serve him right if he were. Hisoka could barely think with the force of his desire. Not with the collective weight of Chrollo’s intent on him and him alone.

Chrollo squeezed a little tighter, spreading his fingers along Hisoka’s abdomen, feeling the muscles just beneath his shirt. “I want you,” he breathed, his voice ghosting along Hisoka’s exposed skin. “I want you so much, Hisoka.”

“Are you seducing me? Now, of all times?” he asked, his voice a laugh. “Isn’t that in poor taste since you’ll be dead soon?” But, for all his teasing he was already turning around, the heat from the fight pooling in his stomach to rekindle the fire Chrollo always seemed to stoke. Chrollo was so cute like this, dressed in his imperious coat and with his boyish mop of hair. So cute and so beautifully breakable.

Chrollo rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide how flushed his cheeks already were. He bit his lip and tugged at Hisoka’s arms, rolling his svelte body against him, already so desperate for contact. “Stop talking,” he ordered, looping his arms around Hisoka’s neck. Hisoka grabbed him by the thighs, lifting him in time to the unspoken choreography inherent in their every interaction. “We don’t have much time.”

The way he worded it, Hisoka almost wanted to ask if Chrollo had killed the referee on purpose just to provoke an intermission.  Fortunately for Chrollo, Hisoka didn’t care enough to tease. He moved with intent, slamming Chrollo against the nearest wall to begin tearing at the clothes hiding him from sight. Their mouths locked roughly in a kiss that hurt, Chrollo’s lips parting when Hisoka palmed him through his pants.

Tearing his mouth away, Hisoka moved his mouth to Chrollo’s neck, ripping at the button on his trousers, Chrollo undoing the clasps on his coat. “Chrollo,” he panted, rutting against Chrollo’s ass. He spared a moment to free his own cock from its confines, hissing as the cool air kissed his fevered skin.  “I didn’t plan for this. Do you have lube?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chrollo moaned, shimmying as much as he could to help Hisoka strip him of his pants. “Just hurry.”

Hisoka clicked his tongue. “Where was all this insistence before? You’re never this eager,” he wondered, maneuvering Chrollo expertly to cast away the offending clothes without letting his feet touch the ground. “I had no idea that fighting got you this excited, Chrollo. Or is it just because it’s me?” He grabbed at the panties and didn’t spare them much courtesy before ripping them off Chrollo’s body, baring him entirely to his sight.

He realized instantly why Chrollo had said not to worry about the lube. “You naughty creature,” Hisoka crooned, staring gleefully at the shiny black plug buried in the thief’s ass. “You really aren’t taking this seriously at all, are you?”

“You ruined my underwear,” Chrollo complained, but it was a poor distraction from the toy he’d been using the entire fight. His cheeks turned pink when Hisoka played with the base, twisting and shifting it until he moaned. “And I’m taking it seriously-” he tried to say, but his voice broke on a choked gasp. Hisoka gave him no warning as he yanked it out, the plastic dripping with lube enough to spare.

“If you are, then I don’t know if my sanity can take this,” he admitted, tossing the plug into a nearby sink. He dipped his fingers inside, both to check that he was stretched and to collect the lube on his hand. “How long have you had this in?” he asked, his fingers meeting no resistance at all. He pulled them out and coated his cock with the slick, staring into Chrollo’s dark, embarrassed eyes until he answered.

“Since this morning,” Chrollo whispered, giving another impatient bounce. “So hurry up already and fuck me.”

Hisoka wished he could draw this out. He wished he had the time to make Chrollo tell him about opening himself up, about how it felt to run and fight with the plug inside him. His hands clenched brutally around Chrollo’s hips, a bead of sweat running down his neck. Did he do this for him? Had he planned this from the start, counting on an intermission to be called just so he could drag Hisoka off to fuck him in some grimy bathroom?

He couldn’t wait, not with Chrollo like this. Why was he like this? He was never so forward, at least, not in public where they could be found so easily. Hisoka buried himself inside, his eyes rolling back at the tightness. Chrollo may have been stretched and waiting for hours for this, but it was apparent that he sized the plug perfectly. “You’re absolutely filthy,” Hisoka groaned, bucking his hips to make Chrollo choke and gasp. “All this time, while I was bleeding and planning, you were standing there with that toy inside you, thinking about me fucking you.”

“Yes,” Chrollo breathed, his voice hitching in time to the thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, I wanted it,” he said, his fingers clawing viciously at Hisoka’s shoulders, drawing more blood and pain as easily as he’d done on the arena stage. Hisoka drank it in, savoring it.

It’d be the last time Chrollo injured him.

“Fighters!” that annoying voice grated over the intercoms. “Please begin making your way back to the arena! We are set to resume the battle in fifteen minutes!”

That wasn’t enough time, Hisoka thought, nearly drowning in the taste of his blood in Chrollo’s mouth. It wasn’t even remotely enough time, not for him to savor the warmth around him, to burn this moment into his skin so that he’d never forget how Chrollo felt. His taste, his scent, his warmth, his smooth, rolling voice-

“Hisoka, hurry,” Chrollo begged, his fingers tight in his hair, yanking and pulling and urging him like a horse refusing the yield to the reins. “Hurry, hurry, I need-”

Hisoka didn’t let him finish. He didn’t let him say what he needed. Instead, he kissed him as deeply as he could, as filthily as he could, thrusting into the tight, slick, mind-numbing heat like a man who only just realized what was at stake here. Blood and bruises rose beneath his fingertips, and, for just a second, Hisoka wanted to laugh. It figured, he thought, feeling more than hearing Chrollo wail against his lips, that the first blood he drew on Chrollo would happen like this.

“Ten minutes!” the damning voice reported, the tinny, filtered roar of the crowd sounding like static behind the words. “Ten minutes before the fight resumes!”

What else could he do? He could kill him easily like this, Hisoka thought, but it was a lazy, uninspired idea. He’d had Chrollo in his arms hundreds of times before, moaning and begging and ultimately blind to the threat he embraced so easily. Hisoka dug his fingers deeper, clawing into his hips and stretching his thighs as wide as they would go. No, he told himself, he’d rather end Chrollo on a stage where the world could witness him beg.

“Hisoka, Hisoka, I’m going to cum,” Chrollo gasped, and Hisoka knew his own end wouldn’t be far off either, not after looking at the thief’s face. His cheeks were flushed, his shaggy, unkempt hair an utter mess around his delicate features. Obsidian eyes, clouded with lust and need and want, stared at him unerringly, and Hisoka groaned.

Those eyes. Those eyes would be the death of him.

He hardly knew who came first, only that his own release hit him somewhere in the base of the spine hard enough to white out his vision. Chrollo sang in his ear like a mourning dove, sweet and broken in a key that only he could manage. His fingers loosened in Hisoka’s hair, falling to his shoulders. Hisoka wished they had more time, if only so he could appreciate the afterglow the way it deserved to be appreciated.

“Five minutes! Five minutes! Will the fighters please report back to the arena? A forfeit will be called if the fighters do not make it onto the floor within five minutes!”

“They’re bluffing,” Hisoka crooned, kissing Chrollo’s ear until he fidgeted. Always so ticklish. “But I think this was a good interlude while it lasted.”

“Put it back in,” Chrollo mumbled, the reason slowly coming back to his hazy, black eyes. He bit his lip when Hisoka pulled out, gesturing lazily at the plug in the sink. “I want it back in.”

Hisoka’s heart nearly stopped, his dick twitching abortively. “Of all the days to be kinky, Chrollo,” he said huskily, doing as he was told and pressing the plug back inside him, stopping the release from trickling out. How would he fare now? Hisoka doubted he’d be able to focus at all with the idea of his cum still locked up inside Chrollo. Then again, after the fucking he’d just had, he doubted Chrollo would be any better off.

Chrollo’s boots clicked against the tile when he finally sat him down, and he helped the thief tug up his pants, buttoning his jacket for him. High as it was, Hisoka knew the marks he’d left would never show. It’d be like Hisoka was never even there, though the two of them would know just how much he’d done. Hisoka shuffled himself back into his boxer briefs, wishing for more time. The time to do more.

“Fighters!” the intercom shrieked, the announcer downright livid. “Please report to the arena!”

“I think our break is over,” Chrollo murmured, smiling up at him with that infuriating smile, looking anything but rumpled. His damnable calm was back, the vestiges of his frantic need only visible in the pink of his cheeks and the sated ease in his movements.

“Shall we?” Hisoka asked, holding out his hand for Chrollo to take. To his surprise though, Chrollo bypassed it, wrapping his arms around Hisoka’s shoulders to kiss him instead. He stood on his toes and clung to his neck, dark eyes closed as he kissed Hisoka. It was tender, soft, none of the previous need or sloppiness to be seen. Hisoka let his eyes fall shut, wondering why his heart felt so heavy all of the sudden.

When Chrollo finally broke away, the intercom buzzing incessantly above their heads, Hisoka kept his eyes closed for just a moment longer. “For good luck,” Chrollo whispered, his hand lingering on Hisoka’s cheek. “I hope you finally get what you wanted.”

He started to let his hand fall but Hisoka held it to his face, his throat suddenly tight. “I will,” Hisoka said, knowing they had postponed this long enough. “I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> thought of this while driving home. hope it was a good time. check me out on tumblr, yadda yadda, until next time!


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